


Make the World Safe

by angeloncewas



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: 5up is a good person, Canon Compliant, Floris | Fundy Deserves Better, Floris | Fundy-centric, Found Family, Fox Hybrid Floris | Fundy, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Realistic Minecraft, Running Away, You Decide, can be read as romantic or non romantic, haha those two together, no beta we die like crumb to mobs, non canonically, that goes without saying though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29065392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeloncewas/pseuds/angeloncewas
Summary: Fundy's been pushed to his breaking point enough times that he's snapped entirely, but instead of following in his father's footsteps, he forges a path entirely his own.OR an answer to the question: what was Fundy doing during his mysterious departure, and why is he fine now?-He avoids burgeoning nations like the plague, a warning on the tip of his tongue each time. He travels and travels with nothing but anger behind him and tentative hope on the horizon.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & 5up, Floris | Fundy/5up
Comments: 16
Kudos: 302





	Make the World Safe

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a sleepless 7 am fervor on Tumblr and it got such a good response that I decided to pad it a bit and post it here too :)

When the Dream SMP has nothing left to offer him, Fundy goes world-hopping.

He leaves his items and armor behind, no letters for these people who won’t miss him. There’s a hum of new arrivals in the air and as he exits, he hopes they find more peace than he could. He’s tired of being a person on the fringes just as much as he is tired of wanting to be more.

So Fundy goes. He mines in survival worlds, admiring the foliage and fauna. He avoids burgeoning nations like the plague, a warning on the tip of his tongue each time. He travels and travels with nothing but anger behind him and tentative hope on the horizon.

In one world, he spawns near a mesa, and he decides to stay in it for a while because it reminds him of Drywaters. Remnants of a desperate, unfulfilled hope. He wonders in the back of his mind how Niki’s doing, before forcing down the thought and all of the bitter contempt that rises alongside it.

He’s poking around in a mineshaft and is pretty much ready to get up and leave when a plant hybrid (Fundy’s thankful, privately, to have _finally_ encountered another hybrid) stops him.

He introduces himself as 5up and the two of them exchange pleasantries. He’s good company, but Fundy can’t shake the feeling that this guy looks oddly familiar until he _realizes-_

“I met you after my wedding!”

5up’s eyes light with recognition. “Oh! I think I remember that. In the casino, right?”

“Yeah!”

“Congratulations, by the way.”

“No, actually,” Fundy reaches up and fiddles with his ear. “I, uh, I got left at the altar.”

5up apologizes profusely for the awkwardness he’s infused into the situation and, after scanning the worn satchel Fundy carries and his matted fur, offers him a place to rest back at his base.

(“You can stay for as long as you want. It’s just me and Crumb.”

“Who’s Crumb?”

“Oh, you’ll love her.”)

Fundy gets dragged (willingly) across the clay valleys and hills until they reach 5up’s base. Something beyond his wildest dreams; massive amounts of complex machinery, right at his fingertips. Fundy is elated, even more so when 5up hands him some goggles and tells him he’s more than welcome to tinker around.

Crumb is a sweetheart with energy to rival Fundy’s own and his hands are covered in oil instead of blood and 5up sleeps next to him and doesn’t ask where he came from, so he stays and never offers an explanation.

He learns how to fix problems, creating new ones only to fix those, too. He suggests that they name the world _Cogchamp_ and Crumb’s already handing 5up a sign.

Fundy heals. With his new friends’ encouragement and willingness to listen, their genuine praise for his applicable skills. He builds and builds and never destroys anything without purpose. He watches the amber dust roll and disappear over the line into lush forest.

Fundy falls in love with this land _and_ its people and he doesn’t look back.

Until, that is, a letter finds him. A book bound with tattered thread and written with shaky hands.

 _Dream is in prison,_ it reads. _An unrelated threat has arisen and the SMP may be destroyed entirely. We’d appreciate your help._

There’s an unspoken question in 5up’s eyes as he reads over Fundy’s shoulder, and Fundy’s heart aches twice over.

No matter what he does, he’ll be leaving people behind. The ones in the SMP hurt him, but he has family there. Both blood and in bonding, both relationships torn to shreds.

It’d be stupid to give up paradise for a place he knows is anything but, for the site of country that never loved him like he loved it. With his entire being; so steadfast, its destruction at his father’s hands still comes to stalk his nightmares.

(“It’ll be okay,” 5up murmurs under the stars. “I don’t know what happened, but I know you.”)

Fundy knows the weight of the decision he’s making before he’s even made it, and it hangs like a lead around his neck as soon as he’s decided. Some pull toward home, or whatever that place is, after all that’s happened.

“We’ll wait for you,” Crumb and 5up assure him.

It’s a promise he trusts (because Fundy has learned trust again, between gearboxes and redstone) won’t be broken.

Things don’t break here unless you’ve built them incorrectly and Fundy has put together something worth being proud of. The sort of bonds he always saw intertwining other people, but could never touch. 

Fundy has roots now, ones that run through their waterwheels and rest beneath their farmland. They will keep him grounded, no matter where he goes.

Crumb bakes a cake and Fundy has them eat it together instead of taking it with him, one more bright memory for whatever’s up ahead.

They listen to the mechanical hums of their work as the sun sets and 5up leans his head on Fundy’s shoulder and he wants to say more (say _thank you,_ tell them where he’s going) but he doesn’t.

As they’re saying goodbye, Crumb hands him a flower. He packs it so carefully, you’d think it was netherite; she makes him swear to tell them everything when he gets back.

It’s been a year and a half since he last saw the SMP, but with softness under his skin and contentment having built itself a home within him, he decides to return. Another great unknown (and lots of red mucus, apparently) await.

**Author's Note:**

> End Notes:
> 
> \- Not much to say, I hope you enjoyed  
> \- The title's from Dear Theodosia and will be stuck in my head for ages  
> \- Check out my Tumblr! Same @, you get to see (debatably) cool stuff like this


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